


Extremities

by moonblossom



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Feet, Fluff, M/M, body issues, self-consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-10
Updated: 2012-11-10
Packaged: 2017-11-18 09:11:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/559300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonblossom/pseuds/moonblossom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft has always hated his feet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Extremities

**Author's Note:**

> Geniusbee on tumblr posted [a drawing of some feet in pinstripe trousers and challenged people to write something interesting about them](http://geniusbee.tumblr.com/post/35415365167/trick-or-treat-smell-my-feet). I'm not sure how interesting this is, but it's what immediately came to mind. Just a quick ficlet, originally posted to tumblr. Not betaed or anything, let me know if you notice anything wrong.

Mycroft has always hated his feet. He’d had an awkward relationship with most of his body for most of his life, but his feet have always stood out. Strangely lumpy things, much easier to tuck them into a pair of delicately knit socks and hand-made footwear. Sherlock loved to traipse around barefoot, long toes wiggling into carpets, and Mycroft was certain he was doing it on purpose. His feet were much more elegant than Mycroft’s, and he did so enjoy showing off.

When Mycroft and Greg first started dating, Mycroft did everything he could to ensure he’d never have to go barefoot. Thankfully, Greg seemed to enjoy the power play that came with one partner being entirely nude and the other nearly fully clothed. Eventually, Mycroft let his guard down.

They were sitting on the sofa, enjoying a glass of scotch while the news played in the background, but neither man was really paying attention to it.

“Mycroft?” Greg’s voice was slightly sleepy, blurred around the edges from the scotch. “Why don’t you ever take your shoes off?”

He bristled. There was no way out of it now.

“I’m more comfortable this way.”

“Bullcrap. Nobody’s ever more comfortable in shoes like that. C’mon. Take ‘em off.”

Mycroft pursed his lips, toes suddenly feeling confined by the rich leather of his brogues. “Myfeetareugly.”

“Mycroft Holmes, did you just _mumble_?“ Greg sat up, suddenly stone sober. “You’re gorgeous. I’m sure your feet are gorgeous.”

Mycroft realised there was going to be no dropping this issue. Not now that Greg’s mind was clear. He was going to harp on it until one of them gave in, and Mycroft wasn’t sure he had the patience for that. With a hugely put-upon sigh, the type usually reserved for his brother, he leaned forward and carefully undid the laces of his shoes. He slipped them off with practiced ease and tucked them neatly under the sofa before pulling his socks off. He could feel the flush of embarrassment creeping across the back of his neck as Greg studied his feet, taking in the smattering of freckles across the tops, the couple of absurd ginger hairs across his big toes.

Tentatively, Greg reached out and ran one finger across the top of Mycroft’s left foot, causing him to gasp. Hardly anyone had ever touched his feet, and as a result they were incredibly sensitive. Greg ran his hands around to Mycroft’s heels, cupping both feet in his palms.

“May I?” He smirked, not a single trace of disgust or displeasure in his warm eyes. Sucking in another sharp breath, Mycroft nodded.

**Author's Note:**

> Yep I’m stopping it here because I’m obnoxious that way.


End file.
